Chapter 6
A deep rumbling cut their argument short. Through the floor, the very ground shook. The bus bucked so hard that it rattled the dishes. This was followed by the blast of a siren. Grabbing their cloaks, they ran outside to see what had happened. At this time of the evening, the market was usually empty. Now, people were running toward the mine. Women and children were crying.
Zeer looked up to see a huge yellow cloud of dust came pouring out of Mine Street. The dust and a smell of burned metal washed over them. Zeer pulled the side of his hood over his face so he could breathe. He noticed that Paris had done the same. He grabbed a boy as he ran past, "What's going on, me son?"
The boy shook himself loose and called over his shoulder, "The mine, the mine, it's a cave in. My mom’s in there. And my dad..." Then, he disappeared into the smoke and the gathering darkness. Gathering his cloak about him, he kissed Par," I've gotta go, lass. They may need all the hands they can get."
"I'm goin' too..."
"It's na good. It will be too dangerous for you and the wee bairns."
"Babies be fine, silly man. Earthers hunt with hands and eyes. Parcats hunt wi' their minds. It's much quicker."
“Aye! Come along then. There’ll be no keeping ya.” Hand in hand, they ran after the rest of the crowd.
As they ran, Paris mind talked to Zeer, "I love ya, sweets. Please be careful."
"I will if you will."
Arriving at the mine entrance, they came to the back edge of the crowd. Everyone was so packed in that no one could see what was happening at the front of the mob. They worked their way to the front. Emerging from the press of the crowd, Zeer saw the first miners that they had hauled out of the explosion. They were blackened with dust and ash. Many were dead.
Without hesitating, he knelt by body after body of the dead and dying to deliver the Rites of Passage to the next world. They were quickly covered over and a path was made as people in the crowd picked up the litters. Zeer made use of pathways that were ever forming and closing in the crowd as they were moved to hospital tents hastily being thrown up in the back. Paris was a trained med tech. She pitched right in.
The guards were struggling with the crowd. Zeer turned and faced it. He raised his arms out away from his body, the crowd fell silent, "Brothers and sisters. There are many things to do and miners that remain down there to be saved..."
He looked at Par. She nodded. To him she thought, "Yes, ma sweet, many remain alive."
He turned to face the crowd, "Committees must be formed to do these duties. Will you help?"
"Yes..." said the mob.
Zeer was an avid reader. Most of the reading tapes in the fort's library were on mining and safety. He was glad that he had read them all, finishing the last one only this morning. He grabbed five dirty miners. He placed them in five spots.
"Line up in behind these people so that we can begin to organize. Learn your team members. you may have to save each other. One explosion no matter how small, may trigger another."
As the people began to move, the commandant staggered, half-dressed, out of the crowd. He was stinking drunk. "I'll be zee one to say what is done around here. I am zee Commandant..." and, with his arm still up, he passed out face forward on the ground in front of Zeer. His guardians grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him back to his office.
"Where we goin? Godda work..."
"You need your rest, sir.” they told him.
"Yes, I am so tired..."
"We'll take care of you, sir..."
Zeer turned on his heel, and found a foreman, the Ssarrian grandfather that he recognized from the recent baptism. "How many do you have, Talia, me son?"
"Eighty six unaccounted for, Fazzer. "
"How deep?"
"Luckily, not very deep. The lowest levels got to the #2 lifts. Since it was sshift change, we had only just started down. The lifts got back to ground level before da power failed."
Tell me what to do."
"You are doin just fine, Fazzer. Keep deeez peepo out of our way so we can work."
Zeer returned to the crowd. Off shift miners had gone to the first group. They were already headed down to start digging. This area would have to be hand dug. If any new gas pockets were found, the mining machines could set off a spark and blow them all up.
All Zeer had to do was look at Par now to talk to her. "What do you find, Paris, ma sweet?"
Paronese are down there, Preacher Man. I told them we are comin'. They seemed okay for now. They are getting air from emergency kits."
“Hear for yourself…" she hooked him into the conversation that was binding them together. Zeer leaned against a wall, suddenly dizzy. From inside the mind of the Paronese female, he saw and heard everything around her. For a second all went dark, then he, Paris, and a sable haired female were standing in a cloud of white light, “Zeer MacTarn, meet Zopha. She’s a friend of mine since childhood. Zo, meet Zeer. Zeer is his clan name. Rone is his street name.”
The woman nodded, looking puzzled, then nodded again. She mentally hugged Paris, “Paris, I have not seen thee since school.”
Paris smiled softly, “So this was your big adventure?”
“Yes. Although, I must say that this is more adventure than I had even planned on.” She spoke to Zeer, “I have never spoken thus with an Earther. This is strange.”
Zeer smiled back, “It’s new for me as well, ma sister, how many are with you?"
She let him see through her eyes again. It did not make him as dizzy this time, "Father, we have gathered together sixty-two miners into this group. There is air enough here and some supplies. We also found four more nearby that were dead.”
She moved her head in the darkness so that they all could see around her. Only the light of head lamps cut the inky blackness. He saw miners laying on the cold floors or sitting with their backs against the wall. All seemed calm. All the Paronese looked back at her knowingly. They could hear the entire conversation.
"That leaves twenty to find. Keep lookin', ma sweet. Zo, thee are doing a wonderful job. See if thee can detect any others."
“There must not be Par Cats in those other groups. I can only find my own people.”
“Thee has done well enough, Sister.” She placed a map into his head showing the level and zone. It was pretty far down.
He tried to sound hopeful, “Hang in there. We’ll be there as soon as we can…”
"Okay, can do."
Zeer walked among the helpers. He was impressed at how, once they had been given something to do, everyone pitched in cheerfully.
"A busy hand ignores the divil,” says the Word."
"Right you are, Dad."
In a shded corner, Talia's wife, the Ssarrian grandmother that Zeer had just met, was organizing an out door kitchen. With the efficiency for which the Ssarrians are known, hot and cold drinks and food were soon being handed out and carried to the miners. Unaccustomed to mining by hand, the miners had to work in short shifts. She amazed Zeer by the varieties of food being cooked to match the varied tastes of the different species of miners.
Another group was organized into a bathhouse. The dust was toxic to most of the humanoid types that were attempting the rescue. Both the rescuers and the rescued miners had to be washed off as soon as they came out of the mine in order to keep the skin irritation down.
Zeer told Talia a small lie, “Talia, me son, one message got through on a wire phone before break. There are 68 miners,” He pointed on Talia’s map, “Here, and they told us four more were dead here.”
Talia pulled thoughtfully on his yellow chin whiskers, “Well, dat is good to know…” He turned to the crew chiefs behind him. “Let’s sink a small shaft rather than a wide one. Crew #1 start here! Crew #2 will spell dem every fifteen minutes.” The miners nodded and went back to their crews to get started. “Just knowing where they are is so helpful, Fazzer.”
Zeer knew from his readings that only a few people could work at a time this way. The heat, bad air, and o
ld- fashioned mining techniques made it a slow tortuous process. As they mined, groups of one and two miners were found and brought to the surface.
As the miners emerged, they were met with either wails or cheers depending on whether the miner was dead or alive. The medicos had taken charge of one group. Over to the other side of the mine entrance, a field hospital was now set up and running. Patients in the tent were being treated quietly and efficiently. More serious cases were taken to the infirmary. Most of the stuff, cuts and bruises or chemical burns, was handled right there so that miners could return to the digging.
The work was tedious and slow. Little cave-ins would happen and hurt more people or set the work back. Zeer moved from group to group praying with them for strength. As he moved from one to the other, each group had a new respect for their Shepard. The Par Cats kept each other informed and kept information flowing. Other Par Cats listened in. They were encouraged by these messages while never letting anyone else in on the information. The Paronese people had never told any one else that these abilities existed. Zeer was keeping it as a secret also.
"Always keep a hole card, Bucko."
“Aye, Dad. That we will."
The sun rose as they dug for their friends and family. As the richest source of Quallium in the quadrant, this cave-in was getting full galactic coverage. By morning, there were news hawks buzzing around. This is where the commandant was valuable. By the next morning, he was sober and well dressed when he handled the first news conference in front of the cave entrance. The people glued to their sets all over the galaxy could watch the various teams bustling about maintaining the rescue effort.
He was interrupted half way through the conference when a group of six miners were brought out alive. Suddenly forgotten, the commandant was left standing as the news crews ran for the hospital to try to get interviews. The camera crews captured how efficiently teams were working on the miners, both rescuers and the rescued and bathed them and saw to their wounds. This made great coverage for the viddy pipers.
Unshaken, the commandant regained control of the mob with the aid of his Guardians. They formed a blockade around the tent, "These peepo have either been trapped all night or working to free them. We must let them rest. I will ask any of them if they wish to make a statement. No one will be allowed into the hospital."
Just then one of the rescued miners came out of the field hospital. It was a Grygorian female. Zeer noticed that the snout was considerably shorter on the female than on the male printer that he knew. The news hawks began to push and crowd around her. The commandant stepped in front of her, "All right peepo... One question a time... or I'll clear this area and you'll have to get your stories from the newspaper."
The news crews knew the authority of a fort commandant. They became orderly immediately.
"Ma'am...ma'am... what was it like? "
"It was nerrible... the nnoise, the snmoke...nank the Master's heaven nfor nthose emergenncy gas nmasks nthey nmade us ncarry."
The commandant beamed, "Yes... we have the highest safety standards possible. We care about our staff."
"Did you think you were going to die?"
"No... I could nhear them ndigging... We were able prenny soon to nset up communnications using a tap ncode nat one of ne kids knew from nschool."
"Commandant, do you allow children to mine."
He put his hands up, "No, no, you misunderstand!"
"I'm sorry, I nhave ann almos' grownn sonn. A nlot of nnese miners are his age. I call nem kids." The crowd settled down over that. The commandant was visibly relieved. Of course he was lying. He knew that there were children who mined here. He hoped none of the victims were children or, at least, that no one would find out. The female turned, grabbed a helmet and mask and headed for the mine shaft.
"Where are you going?"
"My nson's snill down nere. I have nooo ngo..."
The anchor persons turned to their cameras, once again blocking out the image of the commandant from the screens, "There you have it, folks, a true hero. She was just rescued, ate a quick meal, got checked over by the medicos, and she's headed right back into the mine. We'll return after these few messages to your regular programming."
The crews then packed up and headed for the air-conditioned news trucks that they had shipped in to await further photo opportunities. The commandant just stood there watching them disappear in the blowing dust of the plaza.
"My stars, this heat will melt my hairdo..." said one to his producer.
"Make up..." yelled another.
"How'd I look, Zinny..."
"Fine, boss...great angle on the elephant... everybody heard her answer your question first."
"Yeah! YEAH! She did, didn't she? All right, then, drinks are on me!"
This was greeted by a chorus of," ALL RIGHT!"
"S'about time.”
"Good idea."
"Ah, drink, the nectar of the Gods."
"I'm parched."
The Guardian Captain, a large woman from the forests of Triand, turned to the commandant and said, " Don' worry, boss man, they'll be back. This is the biggest story of the cycle. You still control their access."
"This is so hard. I need a drink."
"Better go easy on the sauce, sir. They may find more survivors any second. You can bet that the Empra is watchin'."
“I know, I know, maybe just a little one." The commander strode off toward his office flicking his riding crop on the thigh of his riding pants. This dress style was a source of amusement to his guards who had never known him to do any exercise, much less trying to ride the half mad bush hogs that they used for amusement on this filthy assignment. Most of his guardians would never stay in this hellhole if the opportunities for wealth weren't immense here.
The Captain, Sheel, said to one of the others, " Watch him, Tantee. He's a fool, but we need him. If they don't think he can handle it. He'll get yanked. Then, our whole smuggling deal may go up in smoke if the new guy's honest."
"Yes, ma'am. I understand. Keep him sober enough to do the news." The sergeant headed after the commandant. She was already cringing at what she would probably have to do to keep his mind off of liquor
Chapter 7
Preacher Man Page 9